What's in a smile?
by Wintergrey Seth
Summary: Russia and Dark Italy have a talk.  Views are exchanged. Deals made. Impressions changed.  Things will never be the same again...


(( Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to me. If it did..let's just say that there would be more..fun times..internationally. This is written for..you know who you are, because she placed the idea in my head and it became this. . I hope this doesn't offend anybody. If it does, I extend my sincerest apologies. ;_; ))

The sound of glass slamming down against the counter seemed unnaturally harsh and loud to the Russian's ears as he lowered the fragile item down none too gently, emptied of its contents. The day had been a terribly disastrous one. Everyone was in considerably foul spirits, due to the downturn of the economy, and today's state of affairs did nothing to alleviate the tense situation. Which resulted in everyone leaving early and him sitting himself in one of the quietest corners of a small bar, drinking away his frustrations.

Amethyst eyes brimmed with irritation as long gloved fingers half rose into the air, beckoning for a bartender.

"Another."

The Russian watched sullenly as he watched the trembling bartender pour him another shot of vodka, which he promptly downed, relishing in the burn of the strong alcohol he had grown accustomed to drinking. Unnoticed by the agitated nation, his threatening aura appeared to be driving the other customers away. Most of them vacated their seats, in favour of exiting while the braver ones stayed, eyeing him warily.

Russia sighed heavily and continued on, downing the strong alcohol with relative ease, too preoccupied in his own gloomy thoughts to notice someone approaching him until a soft "ve~" was heard.

The wintry nation blinked, smile returning back to his face as he turned around and regarded the other nation with false cheer," Italy? What a surprise to meet you here, da~ You are not with Germany?"

"Sì," the other nation merely smiled in response as he slid into the seat next to him, "Germany is very busy today, so I thought I'd go out by myself."

Ivan's eyebrows rose slightly in astonishment as he watched the other make himself comfortable beside him. It was odd. Why would Italy sit next to 'big and scary' Russia so calmly instead of trembling and running away? How very strange indeed. Was Feliciano up to something? Curiosity filled the Russian as he eyed the Italian suspiciously.

"Ah, I see. I assumed that you would be with Germany, seeing how you usually are with him."

The suspicious Russian kept his eyes on the smaller nation, gauging his reactions carefully as he picked his next words carefully, "Why did Italy choose to come here and sit with Russia?"

He could easily overpower Italy, should the Italian try anything funny. But it wouldn't hurt to make sure, does it now? He wouldn't want both the Allies and the Axis demanding for an answer and giving him unnecessary trouble, should he "accidentally" break the Italian in the process of defending himself after all~

"Hm~ You see, it's because I need your help," the Italian answered, pausing to order a drink for himself and to wink cheekily at some of the remaining female customers in the bar before turning his attention back to the greatly surprised Russian.

"My help?", Russia blinked in astonishment as he registered the words Italy had just uttered. His help? What an unexpected answer. What was it that Russia could assist in and Germany couldn't?

The smile playing at the ends of Italy's lips curved up to form a light smirk as he thanked the bartender for sliding him his drink and took a sip from the cool glass. He could tell that he'd made the other curious about his intentions. Feliciano took another purposeful sip of his drink, prolonging the suspense just a bit more before focusing his full attention on his companion. The Italian slowly shifted, so that his body was facing Ivan, an unreadable gleam in his eyes. Gone was the usual bumbling Italy everybody was accustomed to. In his place, there sat a confident and self-assured man with intelligence and an air of mischievous malice.

Now, this man leaned a little closer to Russia, voice lowered in a conspiratorial whisper as he spoke with a wicked smirk."You must be wondering why I didn't go to Germany for assistance, sì?"

Feliciano watched as the other seemed to tense and eye him cautiously before nodding. Hm~ He could tell that he's had the other's attention hooked. Time to place his plan into action. "Well," he began quietly, not missing the way the Russian had subtly shifted to give him his full attention," Germany is strong but...he cannot give me what I want."

"And what is it that you desire?", the words were out of the Russian's lips before he realised it. Feliciano could not help but give a little chuckle at the expression on Ivan's face now. The Italian lifted the glass and took a sip of his drink, relishing the burning sensation the beverage caused as it slid down his throat. "I want-", he pitched his voice lower on purpose.

" I want the world."


End file.
